Miles sighed, the exasperation reading loud and clear. “We've had this discussion, Sarai,” he said.
“Yep,” she said, smiling broadly at him. “We have.”
I coughed a laugh into my arm as she continued forward, apparently entirely unconcerned about his facial expressions. Miles looked like there was a vein throbbing his forehead, attempting to explode.
“What about you?” I asked, unable to help myself.
Miles glanced at me, caution and curiosity there.
“Why'd you move here,” I clarified.
“Because Mom died,” Sarai said, nodding firmly. “She grew up here, so Dad wanted to take me to where she grew up.” She was starting to swing a bit in the way she was holding onto my elbow. “I don't really remember her.”
“How old were you?” I asked, pretty much unable to keep my mouth shut.
“I was five,” Sarai said with a wave of her hand. “That was ages ago. I'm so much older now.”
I fought to keep a straight face, and when I looked up, I could see Miles rolling his eyes.
“You're really not that old,” he said, exasperation warming his face.
“Not as old as you,” Sarai said tartly.
I couldn’t help it, I snorted.
Sarai turned to look at me, disapproving. “You're old too.”
“Sarai.” Miles rubbed his forehead. “Sorry,” he said, although the word sounded stilted.
“It's fine,” I said with a shrug.
He gave Sarai a pointed look, but all she did was grin cheekily in response. “Sometimes she has trouble keeping tutors because of this.”
“Says what she thinks, doesn't she?” I asked, mostly sympathetic.
“She got it from her –” He swallowed. “Her mother.”
I glanced at his hand, seeing a wedding ring. “Sorry for your loss,” I said, and I very much was. I had lost my mother, but I hadn’t lost a partner before. I didn't even want to think about what it would be like.
“It's been a while,” he said, although I saw him reach over and touch the wedding ring on his finger. “What were you doing at the hospital?” Miles asked, changing the conversation topic.
“I was talking with Valencia,” I said.
He frowned, not recognizing the name.
“The coffee shop worker?” I clarified. “Wren said she might know more about what was going on with Millie because she worked in the coffee shop,” I added.
“Did she?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Her boyfriend’s dying,” I said. “Or is very sick. She was in the ICU when I was there.”
“Yet you talked to her anyway.” There were implications in his voice I didn’t like.
I wanted to reach out and punch him, but Sarai was still skipping along with us, and she was still holding my arm. “She asked me to come,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I don't just force myself on others.” I let the insinuation hang there, because he was basically stalking me around Elder.
“Somebody has to keep an eye on you,” he said with a shrug.
I looked up at the sky and shook my head. “No wonder your wife –” I clamped my mouth shut, aware I’d screwed up.
Sarai had stopped, and the look she gave me was scrutinizing.
Miles looked at me like he could light me on fire.
“She obviously married you for your warm sense of humor,” I said, because that's what I had been about to say, but now it just sounded like a pathetic fall back.
“Here,” he said. I looked up to realize that we had indeed made it all the way back to my car.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” Sarai asked, leaning on my arm again. She turned to look at her father, her eyes disapproving. “You do have a sense of humor. You just don't show it any more.”
Miles's eye twitched. At least Sarai hadn’t taken offense, though in reality, she was probably the last person who would've. She was young enough that it may have flown over her head.
“Another person –” Miles stopped, as if he hadn't expected to speak. “There's an older man named Daniel, who lives on the outskirts.” He paused. “There's some rumors around him related to her family. You might find them interesting.”
“Related to Millie's family?” I asked. I vaguely recognized the name, although I wasn’t sure why.
He tilted his head to the side. “I don't know much,” he said, although he didn't sound proud of the admission. “But I do pay attention to the gossip, and he comes up frequently.”
“Interesting,” I said, and I hoped it came across as a compliment like I'd intended.
Given the strange look he gave me, I wasn't quite sure I’d succeeded.
“You're strange,” he said. But his voice was lighter, like he'd taken my apology, and realized that I didn't mean it. “We should go home,” he said, nodding to Sarai.
She narrowed her eyes at me, and then at her dad. “But I don't want to,” she said.
“We all have to do things we don't want,” I said. It was one of my least favorite talks I'd ever gotten from my mother, and it was one I’d gotten a lot. If I’d told Miles that, I was certain he wouldn’t have been surprised. Instead he looked at me with surprise mixed with suspicion. Like I had said something positive, but he was waiting for the catch.
“Good luck,” Miles said, although I couldn't really tell if he was serious or not. His smile was vague, but it seemed sincere. Given that I'd sort of been a jerk, I’d take what I got.
“Thanks,” I said. He gave me one more long, lingering look, then turned and left.
“Well okay then,” I muttered.
“Stop flirting,” Mocha said. “We have a crime to solve.”
“I wasn’t flirting!”
“Mhm.”
“Let’s go do stuff.” I stomped off towards my car. Miles aside, Mocha was right. We did have stuff to do.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Wait, what are you doing?” I put down my takeaway, looking at Mocha suspiciously.
Mocha padded out from underneath the coffee table, looking up at the ceiling as if she couldn't believe how difficult her life was. “How you survived being a human, I don't know.”
“I survived,” I said offhandedly.
“That's one way to put it,” she said, entirely unamused. “We have work to do.”
“Work?”
“Are you a parrot?” Mocha asked sarcastically.
I frowned at her. “Bad day?”
Mocha sighed, sinking down on her haunches.
“Do all familiars talk like you?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” she said. “But we’re not all blessed with somebody like you.”
“Touché.” I wasn’t even really that offended. Beneath her snark, I felt like she cared. She wouldn’t be so acerbic if she didn’t.
“We’ve got places to be,” Mocha said impatiently.
“Like?” I was scarfing down my lunch between words now, because apparently she had an agenda for us. She gave me A Look. “Patience is not your strong suit,” I said.
Her look could have lit wood on fire. “I wonder why,” she said dryly. “We’re going to look at the coffee shop. The police are finally done with it.”
“Oh.” I perked up at that. That was totally worth interrupting lunch. “Let’s do that.”
“Yes, let’s,” Mocha said dryly.
I looked at her suspiciously. “Am I really that bad?”
“Sort of,” Mocha said, although I wasn't sure if it was loyalty or something else. “Most of the time, by the time a witch gets a familiar, they’re able to do most basic magic. You're like an infant.”
She wasn’t wrong, as much as it stung. “Can you teach me?” I asked curiously.
“Eventually that's how it will work,” Mocha said. “When your formal education is over, it turns to the familiar to help you specialize.”
“In English?” I asked weakly.
Mocha sighed, switching sides as I headed out of my apartment and towards the door Addie had iden
tified as leading to the coffee shop. “Right now, you're receiving a general education – you're getting to know little bit about everything, the different types of magic. Eventually, you'll specialize. You'll be able to choose what type of magic, although it might be impacted by your aptitude.”
I vaguely remembered Wren mentioning something about that. “A test?”
“Not quite,” Mocha said. “If you don't score high in the aptitudes best suited for a type of magic, it's not going to stop you from doing that type of magic, it will just make it more difficult for you to qualify.”
“That sounds like a mess,” I said.
“That's about right,” Mocha said, not at all bothered by it.
“So, if I don't do the type of magic you know, do I get a different familiar?”
Mocha stopped and glanced at me over her shoulder. It was probably the most human-like expression I'd seen out of her in the time I'd been around her. “I can do all types of magic,” she said.
I held my hands up, hiding a grin by biting my cheek. “I'm sorry for doubting you,” I said.
She sniffed, as if detecting the sarcasm. But she seemed to let it go. “You’re new to these ways,” she said, nudging the right door with her nose. I had a feeling, if she was human, she would've broken out her walking stick and shouted about “kids these days.” As it was, she was doing the dog version of it.
My phone rang, catching our attention. I picked it up and put it to my ear, not even glancing at the number. “Hello?”
“It's Ethan,” he said, sounding haggard.
“Hi,” I said, my heart skipping a beat. He wouldn’t have called if there wasn't a good reason for it. “What's up?”
“We found a client list,” he said.
“Really?” I asked, my interest growing.
“Really,” Ethan said, his voice tight. “There was someone on the list we weren’t expecting.”
I waited, patient.
“It’s Vance’s brother.”
Well, that made things interesting. Internally I winced. “Have you talked to him?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said, enunciating the word. “We questioned him already and released him.” He didn’t say anything else.
I was trying to figure out why he had called, if he wasn’t going to give me many details.
“Yanis is Vance’s brother.”
It took a second, but the name rang a bell. He was the first customer Wren had taken me to meet. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Just be safe,” Ethan said, his words strict and hushed at the same time, like he was afraid of being overheard. “Take someone with you.”
I nodded, taking it seriously. “I will.” I hoped.
He gave me the address, and with Mocha at my side, I headed that way. Mocha counted, didn’t she?
My palms were sweaty now, stress getting the better of me.
“You could be making worse decisions,” Mocha said, somewhat reassuring.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, mostly focused on driving. “You know he meant I should text Wren or Theo.”
“But I keep secrets,” Mocha said instead. She scratched one of her ears, then yawned. “I can do magic, no runes or anything needed.”
“So you’re saying you’re my bodyguard?”
Mocha nodded. A spark of light drew my attention, and I slowed to a stop before recognizing the building. “If I'm not mistaken, that's our target,” Mocha said cheerfully.
It was a tall, mostly brick house, spindly wannabe evergreen trees looking oddly out of place in the sparse greenery that was Phoenix. I parked across the street, turning the car off with shaking hands.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Mocha asked, her voice low.
I killed the lights. “Do I have a choice?” I asked dully. One of Mildred’s customers held the key to this whole situation, I knew it. I just didn’t know who it was or how to get the information I needed.
Getting out of the car, Mocha at my side, I headed up to the front door, my nerves making me sick to my stomach. Before I had gotten five steps up the walkway, the door swung open. I froze.
“What are you doing here?” Vance asked, his words terse.
“Uh.” I wracked my brain for a reason that sounded plausible. I looked down at Mocha. “I was hoping to ask you a few questions about Mildred,” I said, because it was close enough to the truth.
His shoulders relaxed a miniscule amount. “What about her?” he asked.
Shoot. Uh. “Did you know anything about Millie?” I tried.
Vance looked at me, his gaze more astute than I would've given him credit for. “You're not here to ask about Mildred, are you?”
“I'm looking for Yanis,” I said, trying and failing to hide my uncertainty. I hadn’t expected Vance to be there, and providing backup.
His expression didn’t change. “That's being handled,” he said. “You don't need to get involved in it. It's not your business.”
“Considering Kerrity’s trying to blame me for everything, I think it is,” I said sharply.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “This is none of your business,” he repeated.
“Go away, little girl.”
“What a charmer,” Mocha muttered. My ears probably turned red. Personally, I had to agree with her. And this was the guy that Ethan was engaged to? It made me question his sanity.
Footsteps behind me made me jump and spin to the side. “What are you doing here?” Ethan said, although he didn't really sound surprised.
“You were supposed to warn me,” I hissed at Mocha.
Mocha scratched her ear and yawned, unimpressed. I turned to look at Ethan, trying to look less guilty than I felt.
“You were supposed to bring someone with you,” Ethan said, although he didn’t sound surprised by that either.
“I brought Mocha?” I offered.
Ethan snorted.
“She was just leaving,” Vance said, turning to look at me pointedly.
“Sort of,” I said evasively. Because I didn't know when to leave well enough alone. Mom had always told me that, and I was proving her right. “I just want to talk to Yanis.”
“He is not a suspect at this time,” Vance said, his lips tight. He and Ethan exchanged looks, a whole lot of weight behind them. Talk about awkward.
Part of me felt bad, but part of me didn't. I’d lost a lot of empathy towards secrets since that crazy woman had tried to paint me as a murderer.
“I can't talk to him at all?” I asked patiently.
“He is currently unavailable,” Ethan said, his lips tight.
“I just want to ask him some questions about Mildred,” I said, my voice starting to get higher in frustration. “How am I supposed to solve this stupid crime and clear my name if no one will talk to me?”
“You tell ‘em,” Mocha said. I shot her a withering look, although I was fairly certain her sarcasm was supposed to be supportive.
Ethan looked at Vance, and Vance looked back. There was a tight stretch to his lips, and he looked about ready to say something again when there was a voice from behind him.
“I’ll talk to her.” I recognized Yanis’s voice from the few times I had seen him before. He looked tired, deep smudges under his eyes and wrinkles that made him look older than he was. He looked far too old to be Vance’s brother, but I didn’t judge.
“Yanis –”
“It’s okay,” Yanis said firmly. He turned to look at Ethan. “Take him inside,” he said, his light tone making it a suggestion.
For all that I wasn't thrilled with the current situation, there was something nice about the way he talked. I wasn't sure why, but it made me want to trust him, despite his prior behavior.
“Lou –” Ethan said, looking between Vance and me as if he couldn’t decide where his priorities lay.
“I’ll be okay,” I said, trying to mimic Yanis’s confidence.
Ethan sighed. “Don't do anything stupid.”
I looked sheepish.
It wasn’t even worth denying that. Plus, I wasn’t going to risk doing something that could hurt him. He was going out of his way to help me with the investigation, and now it was digging into his personal life. I hated that I had to do that to someone I was starting to think of as family.
“I won't,” I said firmly. “I just want to ask a couple questions.”
I could feel both Yanis and Vance watching me carefully, the skepticism high. Despite what Yanis had said, Vance and Ethan hadn’t moved.
“Were you a customer?” I asked.
“I frequented the coffee shop,” Yanis said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was dressed in tradesmen’s clothes, obviously made for hard work. “But that's not what you're asking, is it?”
“They found the drugs in her system,” Ethan said. “The same drugs that we found you on the client list for.”
I saw rather than felt Vance's flinch, but I also noted that Yanis didn't look affected all.
“And?” he asked calmly.
“Did you kill her?” I asked bluntly.
“No,” Yanis said flatly.
“Did you take the drugs?” I wasn’t sure how that would help me, but I was desperate for information.
Yanis studied me, something dark in his eyes. “I’m neither confirming nor denying,” he said, glancing at Ethan. Internally, I winced. This had to be a hell of an ethical complication. Even without me involved, he was probably going to have to get off the case. Then Yanis’s gaze returned to me. “Follow the drugs. Find the source. Who had the most to lose if Mildred talked?”
“What –” I stared at him.
“Now if that's it –” Yanis turned away, his back towards me now.
“It is,” Ethan said firmly.
If Mildred talked. “Talked about drugs?” I asked, my voice soft. I got the faintest nod in confirmation. “Thanks.” I was grateful. It almost definitely implicated him in something, and it led to a complicated situation, but he had answered.
Vance was watching me now, his eyes flickering between me and his brother. “Sorry,” Ethan said, the words an awkward mumble.
Talk about a way to hurt a relationship. “I’m sorry,” I said to him, and I really was. I also wasn’t sorry. I had needed to know what Yanis had told me. I just wished he didn’t have to be hurt in the process.
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